


how to deal with loss, leg injuries, and your idiot of a partner

by kagako



Category: Kuroko no Basket, Kuroko no Basuke, The Basketball Which Kuroko Plays
Genre: M/M, i feel like i need to put additional tags but no i have nothign else ot Say, i'm sorry i suck at summair es i'm ctyin, oh but yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 23:53:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagako/pseuds/kagako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The corners of Kasamatsu’s lips twitch up in a smile, and he drops his hand, jerking his head toward the side benches Kise had occupied most of practice. “Come on, I’ll rub your legs,” he tells him, stomach twisting in a different manner as Kise’s face lights up, his eyes following suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how to deal with loss, leg injuries, and your idiot of a partner

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first kasakise fic, i hope you like it, and thank you for reading!

Touou Academy versus Kaijou High. One hundred ten points to ninety eight.

Every time Kasamatsu thinks of that game, he cringes a little—gets a burning in the back of his throat that he can’t contain. It starts in his throat and travels to his eyes, making them accumulate a rim of tears until he blinks them back furiously. He tells himself that he has no time for the tears, knows it’s not worth it anymore. Kasamatsu knows he was part of the reason Kise’s legs were injured—even if the blonde idiot repeats over and over that it was no one’s fault but his one; that he was just as passionate as winning against “Aominecchi” as he was, as the rest of the team was. After all, he was a Generation of Miracle, the ace of all six of them.

 _Right,_ Kasamatsu thinks, and then goes back to ignoring the idiot again.

****

*******

He thinks it’s a bit pathetic, watching Kise from the sidelines as he’s playing on the court. Kasamatsu doesn’t quite know which is more pathetic, however—him keeping watch on his partner while he should be focusing on the game, or Kise with his drawn eyebrows, light eyes set in a glare as he directs said glare to his feet, arms tightly crossed against his chest. Kise’s desperate to play and it’s radiating off him; the whole team knows and Kasamatsu is sure the opposing team does too.

It’s a similar situation at practice. Kise’ll sitting on the bench as he stares at his feet, mouth set in a pout as his arms cross over his chest lazily. The idiot won’t keep up a conversation with anyone—the aura spilling off him says enough that the team knows not to bother him for too long. Kasamatsu wants to kick him every time he lays his eyes on that expression, the way Kise allows his shoulders to hunch. He knows he shouldn’t, though, not with his the way they are, but either way it doesn’t stop the dark haired male from thinking about it, imagining the situation in his head—the way Kise would yelp, hit the floor with a small smile and a soft laugh, the way he’d whine _“Kasamatsuuu-senpai, why’d you have to kick me?”_

Kasamatsu tries his best to ignore it, somehow; knows he should since lately his practice and court time in games has been slacking—knows it’s because of that idiot Kise and the way he’s obviously sulking. The team’s still winning, still has a low amount of loses, so he figures that it’s okay. As the captain of the team, Kasamatsu doesn’t quite enjoy seeing his team is such distraught—and it leads back to their ace being injured, and the only thing he can really do is glare at them, yell in that supportive, captain-like way that Kise will be alright soon, they’ll all get to play together again.

Luckily, it pulls the team through.

****

*******

It’s even more pathetic, Kasamatsu thinks, watching Kise after practice when he thinks everyone has packed up and left. He watches his partner get up from where he was sitting on the side bench, watches him as he picks up a basketball from the racks. Kasamatsu still thinks it’s amazing, how smooth and easy Kise makes it seems, rolling the basketball into his hands, pushing downward so it hits the floor and easily bounces back into his hand as if his hands were made with some sort of magnet for basketballs. Even if he thinks it’s amazing, the captain is still a bit ticked at how easy it is for him—then again, that’s what a prodigy is all about, and he knows as such.

He watches Kise as he walks, a slow pace but hesitant yet still confident in his abilities to play. The older male tries not to cringe as Kise bends his knees—Kasamatsu can see the obvious way the ace cringes in pain, the small noise in the back of his throat audible from across the gymnasium. He’s standing in the entrance of the locker room, can see the way Kise’s legs are shaking slightly as his feet shift, arms taking position to shoot. The sight causes Kasamatsu to jerk and he knows that he should hurry up and stop the blonde, knows he’s in pain and his legs will get worse with the pressure.

A part of him tells him to stays where he is, and Kasamatsu listens to that part—after all, he does want to see how Kise will shoot, if he’ll make it or if he’ll miss. Kise’s a strong player, if not a reskless and dumb one. Kasamatsu admit that it’s hard, though, staying in one place as his eyes follow Kise’s movements, watching as the blonde attempts a layup.

It’s something Kasamatsu never wants to see again—the way the ball circles the rim only to bounce back downward to Kise’s feet.

The dark haired male sighs loudly, the pang in his gut still present as he tilts his head, putting one foot in front of the other as to make his way to the ace, who’s currently hunched over, legs visibly shaking ever so slightly as he places his hands on his knees. “That’s enough, idiot,” Kasamatsu says, placing a hand on his hip as he looks down at the other, watching him jerk with surprise as startle registers in his eyes.

“Senpai, I was ju—“ Kise starts, but Kasamatsu waves his hand, dismissing any excuse or reasoning the blonde had in store for him. The ace stares up at him, eyes troubled and face equally so as the look in Kasamatsu’s eyes settles in Kise’s bones and _god,_ Kasamatsu thinks, _boy is he one of the dumbest guys ever._

The older extends a hand, slipping his fingers into Kise’s  hair, moving them in that comforting, ruffling motion the ace always enjoyed from him. The corners of Kasamatsu’s lips twitch up in a smile, and he drops his hand, jerking his head toward the side benches Kise had occupied most of practice. “Come on, I’ll rub your legs,” he tells him, stomach twisting in a different manner as Kise’s face lights up, his eyes following suit.

Kasamatsu rolls his eyes, directing his attention anywhere from the seemingly hyperactive Kise just beside him, the way his hand is brushing against his own. “Sit down, Kise,” he tells him, waving his hand in the general direction of the bench. The blonde does so, squirming a bit as he’s greeted with the feel of cool metal. “Which leg hurts worse?” Kasamatsu asks; lowering himself so he’s seated on the floor, head tilted back so he can look Kise in the eye.

The position is weird, the older male knows, yet looking up at Kise isn’t new to him—and the both of them knew that. Kasamatsu watches as Kise takes in a breath, tilting his head, considering the pain of each leg before moving the right one back and forth. “This one? The right one, Kise?” he asks, brow raised in question, even though he knows—just wants to ask, to make sure so the twist in his stomach doesn’t tighten; wants to create more seconds, more time before his hands touch the other’s skin. He’s used to touching Kise, has been for months—yet his senses aren’t used to it, seems as if his body is hyperactive whenever his hands are on the other; and it’s even sadder (or better? Kasamatsu isn’t sure) that it’s the same vice versa.

Kasamatsu shakes himself mentally, hearing the blonde agree in a soft voice. Kasamatsu nods, shifts himself on the floor as he reaches his hands, fingertips grazing Kise’s calf in a way that the older wasn’t sure was possible for him. He registers the small intake of breath from the ace, the way his lips twitch upward in response. Kasamatsu moves his fingers, slow with pressure, and small circles that focus on the main point of Kise’s leg muscles. The older is glad to hear the soft exhales from Kise, can tell that some of the pain is being relieved and that the blonde’s leg muscles are gradually relaxing.

Kasamatsu takes his time, directing his fingers downward little by little as he creates circles with their tips, softly digging them into the muscle to loosen them. His legs are falling asleep from sitting cross-legged for so long—how long? he wonders—but Kasamatsu pays no heed to it, doesn’t even care, not when his hands are on the blonde’s skin like they are; not when his own senses are seemingly hyperaware of every little thing Kise’s been doing these past ten minutes.

Every breath that he hears from the other, ever little movement he sees from the corners of his eyes—it’s all registering in his brain, sending thoughts and impulses throughout his body and _god, damn,_ he thinks, because really, this should be illegal, however he is unsure what that “this” is. So instead, Kasamatsu rolls his shoulders, rubs the palms of his hands along Kise’s legs; and yes, he’s aware of the slight blush that took over the ace’s face, can feel the heat from his seat on the floor. It’s even worse, he thinks, because it sends sparks through his blood and it seems to liven more so than before; and Kasamatsu knows his own face has a decent amount of color that can’t go unnoticed under Kise’s gaze and _god, damn,_ again because Kasamatsu really wants to kiss the ace, call him an idiot and exhale a laugh into his mouth—

“Kasamatsu-senpai,” Kise’s voice says—and the sound of it makes him jump, hands going still on the other’s legs as he lifts his head up, eyes meeting Kise’s own. Kasamatsu raises a brow, a silent question of “what?” on his features as his fingertips slide downward, into his own lap and away from Kise’s skin. The older watches as Kise’s lips twitch upward, a small sight of his tongue peeking from between his lips as he licks him. It makes Kasamatsu twitch, almost missing the words from Kise’s mouth as the blonde says “that’s… ah, enough for that leg—it feels better now, Senpai.”

The older makes a noise in response, tilting his head as he moves his hand in a circular motion. “Other one, then, Kise,” he tells him, raising a brow up at the blonde. Kise twists his lips, shifting his position on the bench as he extends his left leg out to Kasamatsu. “If I’m doing it too rough, make sure to tell me, idiot,” he says, hands gently working on the muscle of the other’s calf.

Kise laughs and Kasamatsu looks up to see what exactly he’s laughing at. He can tell that the ace is looking at his hands, the way they’re gentle on his leg, the way his fingers are making slow and soft circles on the main points of the muscle beneath the skin. The older raises a brow, snaking his hand up to lightly pinch at the skin located on the back of Kise’s knee. It causes a yelp to make its way out from his lips, and Kasamatsu laughs. “What are you looking at, idiot?”

“Mm, just your hands,” Kise tells him, head tilted to the side as he watches Kasamatsu work. The blonde watches as his partner makes circles with his fingertips, the way his dull nails are the right amount of pressure on his legs as Kasamatsu runs them downward. Kise thinks it’s gentle—very unexpected since the other’s hands are rough, dried skin and rough patches from all the practice he does on the side; it’s surprising, too, just how gentle it feels.

“What about them?”

“Nothing, really,” the blonde tells him, gently flexing his calf muscles as the other rubs them. He catches Kasamatsu roll his eyes, a small smirk on his lips. “It’s just that your… hands—you know? They’re rough to the touch, obviously—all the basketball,” Kise explains briefly, as if Kasamatsu didn’t already know. “I just thought, this is… really gentle,” he finishes, eyes skimming over the other’s hands as they massage his legs.

Again, he catches sight of Kasamatsu rolling his eyes. “Even I can be gentle, Kise,” he tells him, the palm of his hand surprisingly soft as it makes its way up and down Kise’s calf. In response, the blonde makes a noise, twists his lips as if he’s considering Kasamatsu’s words. It makes the other look up, raise a brow and exhale a soft, harsh breath from his nose. “Haven’t I already proved I could be, huh? Idiot,” he adds, but Kise can see the soft color in his face, the way his mouth is set in a curve.

Kasamatsu’s reaction causes Kise’s own to spark; his face takes on to a soft heat, the color just about the same as the others. His eyes widen, and then relax as his expression changes to a soft scowl, only to look down at Kasamatsu’s smirking face. “Hmn,” the blonde noises, eyes gentle as they watch the other lightly put his forehead to Kise’s knee.

“How’s your knees?” he asks, eyes lifting to meet Kise’s own.

“They don’t—they’re not… in much pain,” Kise tells him, tilting his head as he bends his knees, flexing the muscles in his legs. He tests his knees, narrowing his brows as he considers; he wouldn’t so much mind if Kasamatsu rubbed his knees, worked his fingertips in circles around and on them—however, nothing beats the feeling of wanting to kiss him, he thinks. Which he’d much rather to, by the way.

“Ah, really?” Kasamatsu muses, and then nods in something that seems like approval. “Actually, that’s kind of good. It’s about time for the school to lock its doors,” he adds, lifting himself up to his feet—and he didn’t expect Kise to reach out, fingers circling around his wrist as to pull him closer. Kise’s arching up and Kasamatsu has no choice but to lean down—Kise’s got his wrist and _god damn it, Kise,_ he thinks, biting the inside of his cheek before turning his head, lips twitching with something like need and want as he feels Kise’s lips craze his temple instead of his lips.

“Not on the court, Kise,” Kasamatsu scolds him, and Kise pouts—puts on a fit until Kasamatsu rolls his eyes, nudges his nose against Kise’s neck before biting, perhaps a bit too harder than what the blonde is used to. Nonetheless his face is colored, a tint of pink of his cheeks as his expression is drawn in a scowl. He knocks his shoulders into Kasamatsu as he storms pasy, ignoring his yell of _“make sure you get all your crap out of the locker room, idiot!”_

****

*******

“Why’d you offer?” Kise asks suddenly, giving the smaller teenager a sideways glance. They’re on their way home, walking the streets at a slow pace as their shoulders bump and graze against each other. The blonde didn’t think Kasamatsu would wait for him after trying to sneak that kiss, but then again the older male was able to surprise the ace more than anyone else could.

“Hmn,” Kasamatsu noises, twists his lips as he considers what to answer. He’s giving the blonde the same side glances he’s receiving. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he goes on, keeping his gaze ahead of them as they continue to walk. When the older feels Kise’s eyes on his, searching his face and glancing down to his lips as though he’s missing something he might say, Kasamatsu rolls his eyes, hits Kise between the shoulder blades. “Idiot,” he says quickly, shoving the ace’s side with his own. “Been a while since, uh, we did something like that. Or whatever, you know? Touching and all that _feely_ stuff,” the older explains, mouth pursed as his eyes narrow.

It causes Kise to snort, roll his eyes and circle his arm around the smaller teenager’s neck. Kasamatsu curses at him, flicks him wherever might hurt the most before giving a small huff of breath, a small smirk on his lips as Kise lightens his hold. The blonde knows that Kasamatsu isn’t used to such words, even saying them around when other people are in hearing distance.

“Thanks, Kasamatsu-senpai,” the blonde offers, burying his nose in Kasamatsu’s hair as they walk, fingertips skimming over the short, soft hairs; and this time, when Kise shifts and leans in to kiss him, Kasamatsu lets him. It’s a soft kiss, short and sweet and it leaves a warm sensation in the pits of their stomachs, leaving them with shy smiles and light eyes.

Kasamatsu gives a small snort, slowing his walk to a stop so he can kiss his idiot of a partner properly, longer and sweeter and it ends with a bite on the lip. “You’re running an extra lap when your legs heal,” he informs the blonde, who immediately widens his eyes, mouth set in a pout before Kise opens it, ready to complain before Kasamatsu cuts him off. “Captains orders,” Kasamatsu tells him, a smirk on his face as Kise lets out a whiny breath.

That whiny, irritable breath doesn’t last long, though, as Kasamatu’s lips are there to seal it away. He can’t do anything about Kise’s pout, however, though he figures its okay. The both of them can work on that later, he thinks—though, the thought immediately disappears as Kise’s pout changes to a smile, little by little.

Kasamatsu’s unprepared as Kise dips downward, arms snaking around his waist, back straightening as Kise manages to lift the older up, a smile on his face because he has such an obvious advantage. He hits him on the back of the head, and Kise laughs—spins them both as he moves his feet forward, the side of his head rested comfortably on Kasamatsu’s chest, fingers a soft pressure as they lightly dig into his waist. “Alright, Kise! Come on, you idiot, put me down already—“

Kise laughs once more, leaning back slightly to bump his forehead against Kasamatsu’s, a laugh still escaping his lips as he grazes his lips against the older teenagers. He’s scowling down at his partner, dark brows knitted together as Kise rubs his forehead against his. _Eh,_ Kasamatsu thinks, giving a small sigh. _I’ll yell at him later,_ he decides, lips curving in a smile as he kisses his blonde idiot of a partner.


End file.
